


Barcelona

by DemonDean10



Series: The Saga of John and Brian [1]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 08:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16740187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonDean10/pseuds/DemonDean10
Summary: How Brian And John got together in Spain.





	Barcelona

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and leave kudos if you like. I will post a sequel soon, these will most likely be a series of one-shots.

John let out a deep breath as he threw himself on the soft bed of his hotel room. He heard Brian chuckle from where the manager stood on the doorway.

 

The two of them had just arrived to Barcelona after a lengthy and boring plane trip. John had been excited at first, it wasn’t often he got to be on a plane. But as time passed, he had grown tired of of just sitting, he hadn’t even had the window seat. 

 

But finally the plane touched down and the two of them headed for the hotel Brian had booked. “I’ve been here before,” The manager had said, “I’m sure you’ll like it.”

 

And John did. It looked posh as hell but it was warm, it smelled great, and the bed was softer than a fucking cloud. Epstein sure knew his stuff.

 

“Well, I’ll let you sleep a few hours. Shall we go out for a walk later?” Brian asked with a polite smile, “Maybe dinner?”

 

John pretended to think about it, enjoying making Brian squirm. Finally he said, “Yeah, why not?” 

 

The other man nodded with a smile and walked away, closing the door behind him.

 

John wasn’t oblivious, it was obvious Brian fancied him. It was probably a deciding factor in his decision to manage The Beatles, and the reason why John had agreed to this trip. His son had just been born, but John needed to make sure that the band, his band, remained a top priority on Brian’s mind. Lennon wasn’t queer by any means, but he liked to tease Brian, for the sake of the band of course.

 

Also, the guitarist was curious. Growing up in a place like Liverpool, and hanging around the crowds that he did, he knew very little about the queer side of life. Spending over a week with Epstein would surely teach him a thing or two, it would be fun. Purely fun. 

 

With those thoughts on his mind, the Beatle took off his coat and threw it blindly off the bed, then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In no time, he was asleep.

* * *

  
  


“The Paella,” Said Brian, “is absolutely marvelous, it’s the restaurant’s specialty.”

 

John frowned over his menu, “The hell’s paya?”

 

Brian gave an amused smile, “Paella, John. It’s rice with beans and shrimp.”

 

“Sounds rather second class, doesn’t it, sir?” Mused John, in a fake posh accent like Brian’s.

 

“Oh, not at all.” Brian raised a smooth hand to call the waiter, “Will you try it?”

 

John put his menu down with a huff, he couldn’t read a damn thing anyway. “Sure.”

 

After their food had arrived, Brian and John settled into a somewhat awkward chat. They had never really hanged out like this before, all their talks were business or someone else’s business or polite chit chat about their families (Not that either of them liked talking about that much).

 

“And how is Julian?” Brian asked, ignoring the pang in his heart when he was reminded of John’s marriage.

 

John swallowed a bite of shrimp, the Paya thing wasn’t so bad. “He’s good, you know. As good as a baby can be, I guess.” Truth was, John had no idea how the Hell babies were supposed to feel. They didn’t do much, just ate and slept and stuff. He didn’t really want to deal with that, but when the kid grew up a little John would sure enjoy reading to Julian. Or playing...something. He’d never really been around babies before, he and Mimi didn’t really see much of the family, plus John didn’t think his family was one for babies anyway. Everyone was already grown up. 

 

Brian nodded, seeing that John didn’t have much to say. “And Cynthia?”

 

John looked away, a part of him knew that he should be with Cyn at the moment, not in some foreign country with a man that he honestly barely knew. “She’s good, y’know.” Same thing he’d said about the baby, great. “Resting, or well, trying to.” There was a newborn after all. “Her mum’s with her, I think.”

 

Brian hummed.

 

John sighed and looked around. He spotted a tall waiter a few tables away from them. “What do you think of that one, then?”

 

Brian looked up from his rice and frowned, “Who?”

 

John nodded his head towards the man, who was now moving away, giving both of them a good view of his backside. “That waiter. Is he hot or what?”

 

Brian choked on his wine, “I beg your pardon?” Had John really just said that about another man?

 

John shrugged, feeling slightly embarrassed but refusing to show it. “Well, you’re the queer, you tell me.” He looked into his wine glass, damn drink was too damn sour for his tastes. 

 

Brian looked at the waiter, he hesitated for a moment then spoke, “I suppose if that kind of man is to your taste.” He looked down, “He seems too effeminate for me, I...I prefer men to be more…”

 

“Manly?” John completed, looking at the other closely.

 

Brian hummed and didn’t answer.

 

John looked around again, “What, like that one then?” He nodded at a large man that was there with a couple of other men, in some sort of business meeting. 

 

Brian sighed and put down his fork, “Why are you asking me this, John?” Brian did not wish to be mocked today.

 

It was the singer’s turn to look down, suddenly self-conscious. “I don’t know, just asking.” He turned hostile and his eyes narrowed, “I’m no queer, though. Clear?”

 

Brian sighed and picked up his fork again. “Of course not, John.” 

 

John sat upright, “I’m not.” He repeated, irritated. 

 

His manager looked at him, “I believe you, John.” In a kind tone he continued, “Do you?”

 

John moved away then pushed his chair away. He stood up, “Fuck off.”

 

Brian’s eyes widened, “Wait, John-”

 

But John had walked away and Brian didn’t want more people looking at them than there already were. He called a waiter over, the hot one from before, and ordered the bill. After he had paid he briskly walked outside, hoping to find John outside, but the young man wasn’t there. Worried, he got into his car and headed back to the hotel. Maybe John had found his way back?

 

* * *

 

John was lost. He hadn’t focused on the road when Epstein had been driving, he’d only walked in the general direction of where he thought the hotel was, the two hadn’t driven for a large distance. He cursed himself, now he was lost in a city he didn’t know and he’d had a row with his only help. Not that he knew the hotel’s number anyway. If Brian had gone back to the hotel. Maybe he’d gone off to a club or something, but John doubted Brian was the sort of bloke who went out clubbing. When he had first started going to the Cavern he had been incredibly out of place, looking awkward and lonely. 

 

John sighed and sat down in a street bench. He put his head in his hands and thought about what Brian had said. John knew he wasn’t queer, he’d never liked a man that way before. Not even Stu, or Paul. He’d kissed the former once before, drunk out of his mind, but the painter had roughly pushed him off before John could get used to it. And Paul was too damn straight to try anything like that, you said the word ‘Bird’ and the lad went crazy. And sure, John found Elvis sexy. But the man was above sexuallity, everyone found him sexy. 

 

Good thing it was a warm night, so if he was going to stay outside all night at least he wouldn’t be cold. 

 

“Oye, lindo!” A rough voice shouted. 

 

John raised his head and looked around. A pair of men were looking at him from a few meters away, they looked about Brian’s age but shabby and unpleasant. He didn’t answer them.

 

“Estamos hablando contigo, cabron!” One of them shouted, the one from before. He was the tallest one, pretty muscled too.

 

John stood up, “I don’t speak spanish, cabron.” His accent messed up the word but whatever. He squared his shoulders, maybe if they couldn’t understand each other the others would leave.

 

The short one laughed, “Mira, Felipe. Un Inglesito.”

 

They moved closer to him but John stood his ground. He had lived through Hamburg, he could take on two drunk Spaniards. 

 

The taller one laughed as well, “What your name, lindo?”

 

John smirked, “Your mum.”

 

The other two laughed, they were getting closer and John was starting to get weary. The short one looked pretty strong too, he’d rather not get beat up on his first night in a new country. 

 

“You alone?” The short one asked, stopping very close to where the singer stood.

 

John chuckled, “What do you care? Want someone to dance with?” 

 

“Sure,” The tall one said then put a large hand on John’s shoulder, “You can call it dance.” 

 

Before John could do anything he felt a knee strike his stomach, he gasped and doubled over. But he recovered quickly and swung at the other man. He got in a good hit but before he could get another the shorter one punched his neck. 

 

John coughed and moved away, but the tall one grabbed his hair and struck his face. John kicked at him but one of them grabbed his leg and hit him right in the knee. 

 

The street was pretty much deserted and no one saw him being dragged into an alley. John was thrown into a wall but he pushed himself away. “Okay, fuckers. I’m done playing.” He raised his fists, ignoring the stinging cuts in his face. 

 

The tall one grabbed one of his fists and tried to slam him back into the wall but John pushed himself away with his foot against the wall and slammed into the short guy, who fell with a huff. John managed to get him pretty good a couple of times before the tall one grabbed him around the middle and threw him against the ground face-first. He started to slam John’s face against the concrete, making John groan in pain. 

 

Then the Liverpudlian felt his coat being removed and his breathing sped up, he started to kick up faster but the Spaniard was right on his back, crushing his lungs. 

 

“Get of me!” He cried, “You fuckin’ cunt!” He felt a hand on his backside and angrily twisted around, shoving the tall man partly off his body. But then the short one appeared and held him down, now he was looking up at the sky. 

 

“Callate!” One of them shouted and John hissed as he was slapped. 

 

But he didn’t stop squirming, trying to move the man’s hand of his belt. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the Spaniard taking it off but he gasped when a familiar voice called out into the alley, “What is going on here!?”

 

John closed his eyes, Eppy was here. And he didn’t appear to be alone, the singer could hear more than one pair of boots hitting the ground. Suddenly, he felt embarrassed as the men were dragged off him. He’d let himself be beaten, almost...raped. 

 

He closed his eyes in shame and jumped when a large hand touched his shoulder. 

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, John.” The posh voice of Brian Epstein said as he moved his hand away.

 

John let out a breath and shook his head, “Don’t...don’t be.” He started to sit up and open his eyes but he looked down again when he saw his manager holding his belt and coat. 

 

Brian looked at the bloody boy in front of him with pity, “Here,” he said and put the coat around John’s shoulders, “Let’s get you back to the hotel.”

 

John grabbed the edges of the coat with one hand and started to walk, “How did you find me?”

 

“I was walking from the hotel to the restaurant trying to locate you, when I heard the yelling, luckily there were a couple of policemen who had also heard and were on their way.” Brian answered, keeping a protective hand on the other’s back.

 

John didn’t protest the hand, still feeling unsettled by the experience. He was limping slightly, his right knee protesting his movement. “I, er..thank you.” He said, looking up with forced confidence, “For, y’know.” he gestured in the direction of the alley. They were still far from the hotel, but the could see a familiar tree he’d seen when they had first arrived. 

 

Brian smiled kindly, “Don’t worry about it, John.”

 

The singer nodded and looked away, his face red. 

 

Brian looked at his beat up face, “I’ll clean your wounds at the hotel, how does that sound?”

 

John nodded, “Yeah, ta.” He didn’t really feel up for a talk at the moment.

 

* * *

 

John hissed as the alcohol touched the cuts on his face.

 

“I’m sorry, John.” Brian said, “It’ll fade away in a moment.”

 

John was wearing his pajamas and a warm complementary robe from the hotel. He was sitting in the living room of the suite, squirming with impatience.

 

Brian was kneeling in front of him, still sporting his suit from earlier. His eyes were narrowed in concentration. 

 

“Do this a lot, do you?”John asked, hissing again in pain. 

Brian chuckled, “They taught me first aid at the army.”

 

John frowned, “ _ You _ were in the army?” He let out an incredulous snicker.

 

Brian sighed in amusement, “I know, I know...It didn’t last long.” The older man stood up, “That’s it, we’re done.”

 

“Why did you leave?” John asked as he laid down on the pretty but rather uncomfortable couch.

 

Brian put things back in the small kit he had found in the restroom and shrugged. “Got tired of it, I suppose. Service wasn’t for me, as I’m sure you can tell.”

 

John hummed, he turned with a wince so that he was laying on his stomach and put his chin in a pillow. “Is that so?” He could tell Brian wasn’t being completely honest, and John found himself curious for some reason.

 

Brian turned around to face the singer and leaned back against the kitchen table with a sigh. “Do you really want to know?”

 

John made a silly smile and nodded comically, “Oh yes, please, sir. Very much so, thank ye, sir.”

 

Brian chortled and shook his head in amusement, “You’re impossible.”

 

John fluttered his eyebrows, “Why thank you, Mr.Epstein.” He said in a high pitched voice. Then he remembered their early conversation at the restaurant and he looked away with a nervous clearing of the throat. 

 

Brian held back a sigh. John was hiding again. He decided to open up a bit of himself, and walked closer to the couch. “I was found..unsuitable by my superiors due to certain…health factors that were not permitted in the army.”

 

“Being queer you mean.” John stated with a raised eyebrow.

 

Epstein couldn’t help but crack a smile at his companion’s plain assertion. “Yes, John. That.” He found himself feeling comfortable with the topic in a way he hadn’t in the restaurant. But then he found himself invaded by cation, “But, John, you must know I’m not like those men that tried to assault you.” He leaned close, “You know that right?” 

 

John was about to make a joke but he could see that the other needed a real answer, “Yeah, Eppy. ‘Course I do.”

 

Brian smiled at him.

 

John found himself smiling back. 

* * *

  
  


There were men holding John down, their laughter hurting his ears. His face hurt as it was slammed into the street, and his arms were on fire as they were held in a right grip.

 

“Get off me, you fuckin’ bastards!” He was shouting, “I’ll bloody kill ye, you fuckin’-”

 

His head was slammed down again. He couldn’t hold back a yelp.

 

Then John felt hands touch his arse and he started to struggle again. There was laughter above him and then his trousers were being pulled down.

 

“No!” He screamed, panicking now. “Get off! GET OFF!” 

 

“John.” Someone said.

 

“No, don’t say my name, ye cunt!”

 

“John!”

 

“Get off me!”

 

“JOHN!”

 

The singer sat up on his bed with a gasp. He was sweating and his face was wet. His throat felt raw and dry and his head was aching. He felt two hands rubbing his arms and he flinched away.

 

“John, it’s okay. It’s just me, Brian.” The familiar and soothing voice of his manager said. The other man was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hair mussed with sleep and a blue robe (not the hotel’s) thrown  over his pajamas.

 

John was slowly calming his breathing, his hand on his chest. But he nodded at Brian to tell him that he had heard him.

 

“Did you have a bad dream?” Brian asked gently.

 

John nodded, his face colouring. He’d had many nightmares as a child, though he usually wasn’t loud that he knew, nobody had ever come to comfort him after. But after he’d discovered alcohol and cigarettes, they had stopped being such a big problems. And he got used to sharing a bed with either Paul or one of the other lads, that must have helped. And when they were in Hamburg, everyone was so fucking exhausted after their act that if they hadn’t gone and found a bird, they just fell asleep for whatever hours they could get.

 

Brian looked away for a moment before looking back into the other’s wet eyes, “Was it about those men?”

 

John’s embarrassed face told him everything he needed to know. Brian took the singer’s hand, “There is nothing to be embarrassed about, John. They hurt you, you have a right to be afraid.”

 

John shook his head, “‘tis immature.” He mumbled, “Fuckin’ pathetic. I mean, look at me!” He mocked as he pointed at his wet face, “I’m fuckin’ crying like a damn bird!” He looked down.

 

A soft hand grabbed ahold of his chin and tenderly raised it, “No, you’re not pathetic, John.” Brian told him, “You’re one of the strongest men I know, and I was in the  _ army _ .” Feeling brave, he moved his hand so that it rested against the other’s cheek. “You’ve been through something traumatic, but you’re safe now. I will protect you.”

 

John looked into the other’s eyes, feeling comforted by his words. Even if they were impossible, no one could protect John except himself. Brian spoke like this now, but he’d change his mind eventually, they all did.

 

Brian suddenly cleared his throat and moved away, leaving John missing his touch. “There’s still a few hours before morning, do you wish to go back to sleep?”

 

John’s response was a large yawn that caused Brian to chuckle. The manager stood up and was about to go to the door when a calloused hand to ahold of his wrist. He looked down.

 

John wasn’t looking at him, “Could you...Could you stay? Here, with me?” The lad swallowed, “Please, I…”

 

Brian swallowed as well, “Of course.” He whispered. 

 

John gave a short nod and moved over to the other side of the bed.

 

Meanwhile, Brian took off his robe and took the warm spot that John had left him. Then, to his immense surprise, John wrapped his arms around him and rested his head between Eppy’s chin and shoulder. He also put a long leg over Brian’s legs and then closed his eyes.

 

The manager was quiet. John’s eyes were tightly closed, it was obvious that he did wish to be asked about his position so Brian did the only thing he could do, he put an arms around the other’s shoulders and used the other to slowly brush the other’s hair. 

 

John hummed at this and relaxed. In no time, he was asleep.   
  


* * *

 

It had been two days since the incident. The morning after, Brian had woken up before John and had quickly extracted himself from the other man, needing a cold shower immediately. John hadn’t talked about the night before, but he’d been nicer than usual. 

 

That day Brian had taken John to a bullfight, hoping to take his mind off things. Brian loved bullfighting, it entertained him greatly. But unfortunately, John didn’t agree with him. He’d gotten through most of the fight with some squirming and looking away from the bleeding bull but eventually he’d asked Brian to take him away.

 

“Can we please leave?” He had shouted over the audience’s screams.

 

Brian had looked confused, “Whatever for?”

 

“I, I don’t like it, Brian. Please, let’s leave.” John had put his hand on the other’s arm and squeezed, hoping that would get his desperation across, if the unusual pleases didn’t do the work. 

 

Eventually Brian had led them off the fight, feeling guilty and concerned. So far, none of their time together had been successful, unless you counted the night before. 

 

Then Brian had insisted on taking John out for lunch, that had gone well but John had once again asked for Brian’s opinions about certain men they saw. Brian had complied this time, and found he had had fun. He’d never really had someone he could talk about men like this, even if it was just a curiosity exercise for John. But as much as the singer insisted, the manager had his doubts. He had seen the looks the other shot those men, they weren’t curious, they were filled with want and desire and...fear. And that’s why Brian didn’t question the matter, the boy was scared of his feelings just like Brian had once been. He hadn’t wanted to ruin another activity.

 

The day after that they had gone to a beach, and Brian had laughed as John rolled around in the sand and jumped in the water like a child. John had tried to built a castle but it had tumbled down, then he’d tried to make a sand angel but the water had destroyed it. Still, John’s joy had never ceased. He’d never seen a real beach before and he’d loved it.

 

They hadn’t shared a bed again but they had been sharing a cup of tea before bed on the couch every night. It felt good to Brian and he could see that it made John feel good and relaxed as well.

 

That day they were going to rest, still tired over the excitement at the beach. 

 

John was sitting in the living room, strumming his guitar and humming along.

 

“You think you’ve got a song?” Brian asked from where he’d entered the room.

 

John had jumped then chuckled. “‘ello Eppy.” He greeted, “Yeah, maybe. Paul will have to look over it.”

 

The other man sat down, “Could I hear it?”

 

John hesitated for a moment, “It’s really not finished yet.” John didn’t like sharing his unfinished work with anyone but Paul, he didn’t want to be seen as a bad writer just because the first draft sucked. 

 

Brian smiled, “I promise I won’t judge.”

 

John cracked a smile, “Alright then, I’ll hold ye to that.” Still feeling nervous he started to play.

 

_ It won't be long yeah, yeah, yeah _

_ It won't be long yeah, till I belong to you _

 

_ Every night when everybody has fun _

_ Here am I sitting all on my own _

 

_ It won't be long , till I belong to you _

_ Since you left me, I'm so alone _

_ Now you're coming, you're coming on home _

_ I'll be good like I know I should _

_ You're coming home, you're coming home _

_ Every night the tears come down from my eyes _

_ Every day I've done nothing but cry _

 

_ It won't be long yeah, yeah, yeah _

_ It won't be long, till I belong to you _

 

_ Since you left me, I'm so alone _

_ Now you're coming, you're coming on home _

_ I'll be good like I know I should _

_ So every day we'll be happy I know _

_ Now I know that you won't leave me no more _

 

_ It won't be long yeah, yeah, yeah _

_ It won't be long yeah, till I belong to you _

 

There was silence for a moment, and John put his guitar down. “The melody is a bit off, but y’know, nothing Ringo’s drums can’t fix.” He raised his head, “So what did you-Mmph!”

 

He was interrupted by a pair of lips on his own, Brian’s lips. John’s eyes were wide and his hands were on the air, he didn’t know what to do. Then Brian’s hand caressed his hair and he found himself closing his eyes. He didn’t kiss back but he lowered his hands and let Brian touch his neck and back. 

 

Then the other man moved away, making John open his eyes. Brian stood up rapidly, “John, I’m sorry. I, I shouldn’t have done that.”

 

“Eppy-”

 

But the other man had walked out of the suite faster than John could speak, before he could say that he hadn’t really minded. 

 

The problem was, why hadn’t he minded? John wasn’t queer, he couldn’t be. But nobody, not even Cyn, had made him feel like Brian did. Safe, like John didn’t have to be the angry protector and leader. John could wear his glasses with Brian without facing any jokes, could act campy without getting weird looks, could cry without shame. And apparently, get snogged if he sang. Maybe, just maybe, he was a tad bit queer. For Brian.

 

John decided that he would wait for his manager to come back, and when he did John would let him know that he need to be afraid. John knew that Eppy wasn’t like those horrible Spaniards, he was more than willing to ‘dance’ with Brian. 

* * *

 

Brian was certain that John had run off soon after he had. Surely the lad had gone off and found a pub, a bird, and would stay away all night. Therefore, Brian had done the same thing, except he had found himself a boy not a girl. And if the boy hd a similar face to John, well that could be excused. They giggled as they walked up to the suite, Brian telling the boy (His name already forgotten) to be quiet, lest they woke up other residents. The boy sucked at his neck as Brian got the door open. 

 

“Here we are.” Brian announced with a drunken smile.

 

“Eppy?” A voice answered and startled the two men.

 

“Me dijiste que estabas solo.” The boy told him with a frown.

 

Brian was unable to answer as John came into view. The singer was wearing a tight pair of white jeans, a fetching black turtleneck that made his neck look longer and his black framed glasses. His hair was still somewhat wet but it looked shiny in the hotel light. He looked gorgeous, there was no other word. 

 

But the sensual smile he was sporting dropped into a confused look as he took in the boy still draped all over Brian.

 

“Who are you?” He demanded, crossing his arms. 

 

The boy glared, “His boyfriend, and you?”

 

Brian moved away from the boy, “Now, that’s not true-” But John interrupted him with a snort.

 

“Oh, is that right?” He asked in a malicious tone, stalking forwards. “Didn’t know you had such poor taste, Brian.”

 

Epstein sighed, “John, I thought you were gone-” They boy interrupted him.

 

“You can leave now,  _ whore _ .” He pronounced in a mean Spanish accent, “He has me now.” Clearly he thought that, like him, John had been picked up in a club and had overstayed his welcome. 

 

Brian got angry now, “Don’t talk to him like that!” He yelled.

 

John raised a hand, “Don’t fuckin’ bother, Epstein. I’m gone.” And he walked out of the suite, feeling rejected and embarrassed. Of course Brian had kissed him as an impulse, he had really wanted a handsome, thin man. John was just there when he’d gotten the desire. With a hand over his mouth and another on his elbow he took a door that said ‘Techo/Roof’ and raised up the stairs. It was late and he didn’t want to leave the hotel at this hour, still affected by the other night.

 

Meanwhile, Brian was shouting at the boy he’d picked up. “How dare you speak to him like that!”

 

“Pero, coraz-” The boy was getting scared now, he hadn’t signed up for one with a temper.

 

“But nothing!” Brian raised a hand, “Leave now! I don’t want to see you again.”

 

The boy hardly needed to be told twice and he quickly ran back to where he’d come from. 

 

Brian let out an irritated and worried breath. What had John been doing here? Waiting for Brian? He hadn’t sounded angry...but surely he had to be, he was just coming to terms with his sexuality and Brian had taken advantage of him. 

 

He headed over to where the alcohol was and served himself a large whiskey. Then he sat down in one of the sofas, hoping John would come back.

* * *

 

And John did, after a couple hours. He had been wallowing, holding back tears, in the roof for a while, then he had found a charcoal stick and he had started to draw caricatures on the cement. It had gotten too cold then and he had decided to head back, hoping Brian and his boy had fallen asleep. 

 

But to his irritation, Brian was in the living room, waiting for him. 

 

The manager stood up as the door opened, he had left it unlocked since he knew that John hadn’t taken a key. 

 

“Ah, bloody ‘ell.” John groaned, “Leave me alone.”

 

“John-”

 

“No!” John shouted as he moved past Brian, but the other grabbed his arm.

 

“I sent him away, John.” Brian told him, “I assure you-”

 

“Oh, you  _ assure _ me, that’s nice.” John mocked, “Fuck off, you queer. I’m not like you, I will never be like you. I  _ assure _ you that.” He ripped his arms away and headed into his room, slamming the door for emphasis. 

 

Brian was left feeling guilty and sad. He had really messed things up with John. 

* * *

 

The next day John didn’t leave his room, not for anything. Brian begged and begged but the singer did not answer. 

 

John didn’t have breakfast or tea or dinner, he just laid in his bed feeling angry and sorry for himself. He ignored Brian and played a few things on his guitar, but it was shite, all of it. He was distracted. 

 

The day after that, Brian told John through the door that he was going out and that there was breakfast in the kitchen. John had waited for the sound of the main door closing and then went out. He practically devoured the eggs, sausage, and toast. Then he had gone back into his room, not bothering to clean up. 

 

A few hours later there had been a knock on his door. John waited but Eppy didn’t speak, then there was a sound of something passing beneath his door. 

 

The singer stood up and walked to the door, but stopped when Brian spoke.

 

“I know I’ve hurt you, John. I promise you it was not my intention, I had thought that my kiss had upset you. I am sorry, John. I can say nothing else but that, I’m sorry. I hope you will take this gift with my apologies and promise of my affection. Even if you find you can’t find it in yourself to forgive me.”

 

John found himself chuckling. When Brian spoke like that he sounded so dramatic, but he supposed the way John had been acting it  _ was _ dramatic. He picked up the small box at his feet and gingerly opened it. He gasped as he saw what laid inside. It was a pin that said Elvis, covered in sparkling diamonds. It had to have cost a fortune. He lifted it off the box and examined it in the low light, it was beautiful. Then to his dismay, he felt his eyes watering. Oh, this was ridiculous. He had cried more this week than any other in his life, and he wasn’t even sad this time. 

 

Without thinking he found himself opening the door.

 

Brian turned around from where he was pouring himself a generous drink, “John? Oh, did you like-oof!” He was interrupted by the guitarist throwing himself at him, putting his arms around the manager’s neck and burying his face in his neck.

 

“I’m sorry I overreacted, Brian.” John mumbled, “I just, I thought you wanted me but then you brought the boy, and he is so much more handsome than me and I just-”

 

“Oh, John.” Brian hugged him back, “No, no...I thought  _ you _ were out with a  _ girl _ , I was embarrassed, prepared for you to run away.” He rubbed the other’s back, “You’re beautiful, John. No man I’ve ever seen compares to you.” He felt the other shaking his head and he moved away, “No, John. It’s true.” Brian put his hands on the other’s cheeks, “Believe me, please.”

 

John blushed but nodded, “Alright.” He answered, not really believing it. 

 

Brian could see John was just speaking, so he decided to prove it to him. He leaned forwards and pressed his lips against John’s small and surprisingly soft ones. This kiss was unlike the other one, it was gently and loving. 

 

John melted into it, kissing back like he didn’t know he could. He moaned as he felt Brian’s tongue enter his mouth, oh the feeling was  _ heavenly _ . He felt himself being pushed towards Eppy’s room and didn’t protest, but he did let out a surprised yelp when Brian grabbed his backside and lifted John up. 

 

Wrapping his legs around the other’s waist, John gasped, “You’re stronger than I thought.”

 

Brian laughed, “Army, remember?”

 

John kissed him again, “Oh, yes.”

 

He bounced as Brian threw him down into the large bed and giggled as the other leaned over him and started to lick his neck. But the giggles turned into moans as the licks turned into bites. “Oh, Brian…”

 

Then the manager stopped and looked into the other’s eyes. “Are you sure about this, John?” He didn’t want John to panic again later.

 

John smiled softly and leaned upwards for a kiss, “I do, promise.” Then he smirked, “Now go back to what you were doing.”

 

And with a growl, his manger did. 

 

And the next morning, when Brian woke up feeling content with a naked John wrapped around him like an octopus, he smiled and felt, for the first time in a long time, happy. 


End file.
